Flowers
by Ghost Whisper
Summary: How could something so beautiful be the source of such a bad memory? Features: Chibi Quatre! And hinted 3x4. R&R Please!


Story: Flowers Author: Ghost Whisper Rating: PG (though it could probably be G) Warnings: Hinted 3x4 Notes: See end of story  
  
~  
  
"Here Quatre," Trowa said, thrusting the small bouquet of roses towards him. They were a pure white. As he lifted them to his face, he inhaled the sweet scent wafting from them, allowing it to wash over him as he contemplated his mixed feelings over the gift.  
  
The uncharacteristic gesture of his friend sent a warm feeling through him, but caused his heart to clench painfully. Quatre tried to smile, but in spite of the happy glow he received from knowing that Trowa was thinking of him, the most he could manage was a taught stretching of his lips that never reached his eyes. He kept his gaze on the flowers instead, and tried to keep his mind away from the past.  
  
'He didn't know - he couldn't know' ran through his mind, as he silently tried to reassure himself. He swallowed hard as the perfume wafted towards him again. Trowa didn't see the upset look in his eyes, nor the barely- there twisting of his lips that made him look faintly ill.  
  
"I - I'll just go put these in some water then," he said, turning away and heading for the kitchen. "Thank you Trowa."  
  
"Wait,"  
  
The softly spoken word was more then enough to freeze him in his tracks, and the blond stopped halfway through the doorway, his fingers tightening around the fragile stems of the flowers. A thorn that had missed being removed stabbed through the skin between his thumb and index finger, and he gasped at the unexpected pain.  
  
Quatre switched the bouquet into the other hand hurriedly, as he reflexively brought the wounded one up to his mouth. Blood collected on his tongue, and he inwardly winced at both the metallic taste, and the burning sensation as he sucked on the wounded spot.  
  
"Are you -?"  
  
"I'm fine." He waved a hand at Trowa, halting the tall brunette in his tracks as he took a hesitant step forwards. Quatre smiled falsely again, tilting his head to the side questioningly. "What did you need?" He steeled himself for an accusation. The idea of Trowa getting angry over his reaction to flowers was a little bit ridiculous, but still. . .  
  
"You - look upset. Did I do something wrong?"  
  
Mentally, Quatre began beating himself over the head. Of course Trowa wouldn't get upset. The green-eyed boy had never been one for finger pointing, so the idea that a fight would begin over something so small should never have occurred to him. His momentary lack of trust left him feeling vaguely ashamed. Again he began to berate himself for jumping to the wrong conclusions about someone close to him. He was just so used to it.  
  
"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just tired from all that's going on at WEI lately - I've been telling you all about the new deal remember? Anyway, the flowers," he paused and looked down at the snow colored blooms, "are beautiful - you just caught me off guard. What are they for?"  
  
A faint flush spread over Trowa's cheeks, and Quatre would have giggled if he'd been in the mood. It wasn't often that he received that kind of reaction from the teen. "Well, you've been looking upset lately, and like you said, tired. I was talking to Cathy, and she suggested flowers."  
  
Quatre smiled - a true expression this time. "Thank you Trowa. That was very thoughtful of you."  
  
"So everything's okay then?"  
  
"Well, I suppose, I have been a bit upset lately. It's my father's birthday today, and it just brings up bad memories."  
  
Trowa nodded, looking relieved that he hadn't been the cause. One simple sentence, it seemed, was enough to completely explain away any odd behaviour on Quatre's part. It was obvious that the blond was talking about his father's death during the war. And remembering the pained look that always came over the Arabian's face whenever this was mentioned, and the way he would try to steer the conversation in a different direction, the brunette dropped the subject.  
  
Quatre gave him one last fleeting smile before turning towards the kitchen once more. Safe from any more unwanted questions - for now at least - he looked down at the roses in his hands. The fact that the flowers were a kind gesture on Trowa's part was enough to temper their significance to him - but not enough to completely overwhelm it. It wasn't memories of his father's death that had been making him upset, although he had let the brunette assume it was.  
  
~ ~  
  
The doorbell rang. Looking up in surprise from the puzzle he was working on, the young child stared at the heavy wood that blocked the entrance to his house. Who was at the door? It wasn't really that visitors were so uncommon really, but his father was already closeted up in his office - had been, for most of the day in fact - and had said that he didn't want to be disturbed. Who else would be coming to the house if it wasn't someone to see his father?  
  
Shara, his elder sister by nearly twelve years, got up from her position of studying on a plush red armchair, and raced for the door. "I've got it! I've got it!" She shouted excitedly. A moment later, the five-year old boy heard the sound of feet stamping on the mat in the foyer, and his sister and a deeper voice talking to each other in not quite hushed tones.  
  
"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? You won't get into trouble?" The deeper voice asked quietly. Intrigued, the child got up from the half completed puzzle, and stood silently in the doorway of the room that opened into the foyer. Shara was looking up towards the stairwell nervously, but had a large smile on her face as she greeted a man around her age with dark brown hair.  
  
"Shush Cory. Father may not approve, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him. He's been up in his office all day going over some papers from WEI anyways, and doesn't want to be disturbed." His sister replied. "Besides, we have the full support of most of the staff, so as long as Father doesn't come down here, he'll never have to know."  
  
"That's good to know, I suppose." Cory gave her a shy smile, and pulled out a small bouquet of red roses, and handed them to her. "I - I brought these for you. I know we have to keep this secret but, well, I just thought you should have a little something extra."  
  
Quatre watched with a small grin on his face, as his sister leapt onto her boyfriend with a soft squeal. Shara was one of only a few of his twenty- nine sisters who still lived in the house, and he was glad that she could be happy like this, even if it was secret. She was always smiling at him, and helping him with his coloring, and giving him extra little treats - now it was her turn! A soft giggle from his place in the doorway attracted the attention of the young couple, and he quickly placed a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the quiet sound that had given him away.  
  
"Quatre, sweetie," his sister began, kneeling down in front of him, and placing her hands on his shoulders. "You won't tell Father about this, now will you? He and Cory - " she sent a quick glance in the direction of the dark-haired young man, "don't exactly get along. He might get mad if he found out that Cory was visiting."  
  
The blond haired child looked up at her with wide eyes, and quickly shook his head. "I won't tell Shara! I don't know why Father doesn't like him, but I can keep a secret!" He looked at her proudly, eyes shining at the possibility that he would be trusted with a secret.  
  
"Thanks kiddo," she ruffled his pale hair, her own eyes gleaming with good humour. "And, to seal the bargain - here." She withdrew one of the flowers from her own bouquet, and handed it to him. "I'm trusting you with this kiddo," she told him solemnly. "Flower's are a symbol that you care about someone. Just like Cory cares about me, and I care about you. You'll take care of it, right?"  
  
Quatre nodded ecstatically, holding the bloom to his chest tightly. It had been removed of its thorns, thankfully, so his small hands were not hurt when he gripped in. " 'Course, 'Ra," he told her, squirming under the one hand that remained on his shoulder, eager to find a place for it in his room. Finally released from her gentle hold, he dashed towards the kitchen, looking for his nanny, so that she could find him a cup and water to put his gift in.  
  
~ ~  
  
Quatre sighed, and rubbed his hand over his forehead for the umpteenth time that day, as he contemplated ripping the vid-phone cord out of the socket, dashing the hapless machine against the wall, and feigning the contraction of some little-known tropical disease. Today was not his day.  
  
"I told you already Darcy, that we're not buying them out. No - Yes, that's exactly why. Yes, there is potential there, but the products they sell are not in demand enough for them to be firmly grounded in the market. Yes, I know investing in them might help, but I've already held a meeting with their CEO - have you seen the way he handles business? Dupree doesn't care for quality at all, and if we take over, that's the kind of thing that will blow up in our faces."  
  
He was silent for a moment, trying to restrain his more violent urges, while the man on the other end of the line attempted once more to persuade him. He took a long drink of his rapidly cooling tea, in hopes that it would calm his nerves. It didn't.  
  
"Darcy," he snapped, patience wearing dangerously thin. "Enough! If their business practice improves, perhaps in the future we can consider investing in the company, or buying them out. Right now, there are too many possibilities for things to go wrong, and too many consequences. End of discussion." On the screen, the man's face had flushed a bright red that matched his fiery hair, and his mouth had opened wide as though he were about to shout at the young CEO of the company.  
  
Inside he winced at his own abruptness towards the man who was one of his best advisor's, but who seemed to be having a lapse of business sense currently. Though he tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but feel that there was a tiny devil with his face that jumping up and down on his shoulder, and cheering madly as he'd let his irritation get the better of him.  
  
"Look," Quatre continued on in a more normal tone. "Maybe you can make some suggestions to Dupree. If he modifies his practices a little, I might reconsider, but for now the benefits do not justify the risks."  
  
The man on the screen sighed, his face paling back to its normal hue as his anger dissipated. "Yes sir. I'm afraid I shouldn't have pressed the deal. I let my eagerness get the better of my common sense." A tinge of regret colored his voice.  
  
The blond executive smiled at his advisor, accepting the apology. "Don't worry about it," he told the man. "I'm afraid I'll have to let you go now, though. It's my lunch break, and if I don't eat, I'm afraid that one of my secretaries will rat me out to Trowa. He's been on my case about forgetting to eat lately, and I don't want to see what measures he'll take to remedy that."  
  
Darcy grinned knowingly at him. "Of course sir, I won't keep you any longer. When would you like to go over the Hoffman stock records?"  
  
"I'll have Sadie schedule a call for you around three this afternoon." He replied. "Oh - and Darcy-"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Please don't call me sir. You're ten years my senior, and I would prefer Quatre, considering how long you've worked here - or at least Mr. Winner."  
  
His reward for the gentle scolding was a mock salute from his advisor, and a "Yes sir, Mr. Winner, sir!" Before he could register the teasing, and return it with a friendly scowl, however, Darcy had broken the link.  
  
Sighing, Quatre took a last sip of his cold tea, draining away the slightly bitter liquid as he rose from his desk. Thankfully, once that little disagreement had been worked out, his headache had started t recede. He had a feeling however, that if he didn't break for lunch soon, it would come back again, this time from hunger, rather than stress.  
  
Next to the door was a small cherry wood table holding a dark blue vase with his flowers from Trowa, and a rather large stack of papers for Sadie to process. He placed the little white teacup with its gold trim next to the pile for Sadie to remove later, and contemplated the flowers.  
  
The initial discomfort from the gift had faded for the most part, since he had received them two day's ago, and had left behind only a slight sadness, which was pushed down by the thought of Trowa's hesitant explanation, and concerned gaze. That thought, in itself, gave him a funny feeling in his stomach, but he attributed it to happiness that the silent green eyed former pilot was finally breaking down a few of the walls that he had surrounded himself with since childhood.  
  
"I'm going out for lunch, Sadie!" He called to his secretary poking his head out the door, before removing a tan jacket from the small closet within his office, and dropping his cell phone inside one of the pockets. "I'll be down at that little coffee shop - you know, the one with the great cinnamon buns? - If you need me, and I have my cell if it's an emergency."  
  
The frizzy blond-haired, freckled secretary gave him a quick motherly smile as he walked towards the door. "O' course Mr. Winner. But I don't think there'll be any emergencies that can't be dealt with. You go - 'ave a good lunch. Goodness knows, you're skinny enough as it is."  
  
Quatre laughed quietly at the comment. "I will Sadie," He replied. "There's a couple of things on the table in my office. Could you take care of them for me?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Winner," she shooed him out the door flicking her hands at him. "Go on now and eat - my daughter needs someone with more meat on their bones!" the woman called out as he left. It was a long standing joke between the two of them, that his Secretary's daughter - who was about two years younger then him - had a crush on her mother's employer. Though he didn't return the girl's feelings, he'd been too afraid of upsetting the girl to disabuse her of the notion. Instead, he was content with having Sadie subtly discourage the girl, while the office laughed about "Young love *sigh*"  
  
~ ~  
  
Quatre hummed contentedly as he pulled out a mustard colored crayon, and drew a wavy sideways S-shaped line, making sure to keep his hand as steady as possible. He pouted when it didn't come out quite the way he had pictured, but concentrated even harder as he began the next line, his tongue poking out childishly from the side of his mouth. A curvy upside- down crescent shape connected the two ends of the wavy line, making the shape look much like a boat with two bumps on the top. The young boy grinned delightedly as he went on to the next step. Now for the legs.  
  
A sudden knocking on his bedroom door made him look up in surprise as his nanny looked in. "Quatre dear, there's some cookies downstairs on the kitchen table for you. I thought you could use an afternoon snack."  
  
"Thank-you Nanny Gwen!" he cried, jumping up and giving the older woman a hug around her waist. She smiled fondly at him, and patted his head. When he released her, she held out a hand for him. "Shall we go then young sir?" she asked playfully.  
  
Quatre put on a pompous air, copied from a few of his father's business associates, and grasped her hand. "Yes, my dear." He said stiffly, holding his nose in the air with great dignity - until he stumbled on the edge of the rug that covered the hardwood flooring in the hallway.  
  
Nanny Gwen quickly grabbed his shoulder, stopping the child from taking a fall and chuckling at his irritated expression. "I do believe that the carpets are against you today Quatre," she told him. Leaning in close to his ear, she whispered in a secretive tone. "You'd better watch out. I think I saw a monster with big purple and green spots sneak in here last night, and throw the rug out, disguising himself as it, so that he could sneak up on unwary little boys - maybe he's trying to eat you!"  
  
Quatre gave a small "eek!" and jumped onto his nanny's arm, trying to get away from the monster-rug, knowing she was just playing, but enjoying the game still. The laughter of the two was abruptly cut off when the door to his father's office down the hall opened, allowing a hassled looking Mr. Winner to exit.  
  
"Would you two keep it down!" he said, frustration evident in his tone. "I'm trying to get through some important paperwork, and all that noise is distracting!"  
  
"I'm sorry Sir," Gwen apologized quickly. "We'll be going now, and I'll make sure that everyone knows you're busy and can't be disturbed."  
  
Quatre's father ran a hand through his brown hair. "See that you do," he told the woman, and 'humphed'. "And keep Quatre downstairs please - I do not want to deal with his antics right now. I have an important business partner to meet in an hour, and can't have him interrupting the proceedings." At this, he turned and re-entered his office, shutting the door firmly behind him.  
  
Nanny Gwen frowned at the closed door, gripping his hand tightly as Quatre tried to pull away and run back into his room. "The nerve of that man!" she muttered. "Antics indeed - where does he get off saying those sorts of things?" She tucked a strand of greying amber hair behind her ear, and looked down with concern when she noticed the tears welling up in her young charge's eyes. "Now, now, Quatre," she told him, wrapping him in a firm embrace. "Your father's just tired from all the work he has to do - he's not angry."  
  
The boy nodded reluctantly at his nanny's reassurance, but the uncomfortable lump in his throat that had appeared at his father's words did not want to be swallowed away so quickly. He rubbed his free hand quickly across tearing eyes, and placed an energetic smile on his face, trying to cheer up the woman who was so concerned for him. It didn't matter too much anyway. He knew his father loved him.  
  
"There's a dear." Gwen said, patting his shoulder gently as she stood up. "Now, how about those cookies? And then you can show me about the calendar that you made in school today, okay?" Once more, the two began walking towards the kitchen. The brightness in Quatre's eyes had faded somewhat this time however.  
  
~ ~  
  
The young man sighed in appreciation, as he chewed contentedly on a large piece of cinnamon bun. At seventeen, he had long since outgrown his extreme appreciation of sugary treats - unlike Duo, who always acted like a young boy at the mention of chocolate, or almost any confection - but the one treat he stubbornly refused to give up was cinnamon buns.  
  
Though they were commonly served with coffee, which he didn't usually drink, he found they went rather well with tea also, and they were the perfect deserts to almost any lunch. And with cream cheese frosting. Well if it had cream in it, then it couldn't be completely sugar, and had to have *some* healthful properties - didn't it? In any case, it was one of his few indulgences - something Duo said all of the ex-Gundam pilots needed more of.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss?" He signalled a nearby waitress who was refreshing the coffee of another patron of the café. "Could I please have some more hot water for my tea?" he asked, when she arrived at the table. "And the bill please?"  
  
"Water and bill," the waitress repeated, giving him a winning smile that made him blush. "Gotcha. Just one moment." She whisked off to the kitchen, holding the small silver teapot that had held his water.  
  
'Every time I come here she does that,' he thought, shifting in his seat. It wasn't really that he disliked her - he thought she was quite nice, really - but the small gestures, which he had begun to recognize as flirting made him uncomfortable. He hardly knew her!  
  
'At least Heero's not here this time,' he thought with a small smile. 'The last time I brought him to a café, half the waitresses were trying to get his number, and he scared most of them with his glare.' He hadn't dared go back to *that* place for some time after, afraid that he would not be very welcome. 'Although,' he decided appreciatively 'It would be rather nice to be able to keep them away without truly frightening them. I don't really need a girlfriend in my life right now. It's busy enough as it is.'  
  
Soon, the waitress returned with his fresh water, attempting to grab his attention once more. Calmly drinking his tea, Quatre tried his best to answer her conversation attempts politely, while making it obvious that he didn't hold any particular interest in going out with her. He sighed in relief when she finally became discouraged, but didn't hold his breath. Even if she were on her best behaviour for the rest of his time here, his next lunch break would follow the same pattern of her trying to win him over, and Quatre politely ignoring any flirting.  
  
~ ~  
  
Quatre sat at a newspaper covered kitchen table, surrounded by scissors, sheets of colored paper, green pipe-cleaners, and many bottles of glue - which were half empty, due to being liberally spattered all over said newspapers and other craft implements. Once again, he was humming cheerfully to himself as he cut out vaguely rounded pieces of red paper, and glued them to various circular pieces of cardboard that he had asked Nanny Gwen to cut out for him, not being strong enough to cut it like he did the paper.  
  
Gwen was at the counter; cutting carrot sticks for a snack, and subtly watching him from the corner of her eye to make sure he didn't hurt himself with the scissors. She was still confused as to why he had needed her to cut the cardboard circles, but her questioning had only been met with an impish grin, and an "It's a secret!"  
  
Placing a small plate of the carrot sticks in front of the boy, along with a glass of milk, the older woman sat down and regarded her charge seriously. "Now Quatre," she began, waving a carrot stick at him like a wand. "You're father's birthday is coming up, and I was wondering what you would like to get him, so I can pick it up for you the next time I go out."  
  
The blond-haired child smiled brightly at her and shook his head. "You don't need to worry about it Nanny Gwen!" He told her happily. "This is Father's present here - but," his voice dropped to a stage whisper, "I can't tell you what it is, cause it's a surprise."  
  
The conversation was broken off by the sound of the door from the kitchen to outside being opened, and a laughing couple entering. "We really should do that again sometime Cory," Shara told he boyfriend breathlessly, when she regained her composure, then blushed when she saw Quatre watching her with a grin, and Gwen regarding her with an arched eyebrow.  
  
"Don't worry dear," the nanny laughed, when she saw the flustered look on Shara's face. "You've got my full support if this is what you want - but I would keep your voices down. Mr. Winner's been on the phone nearly all day, and doesn't seem to be in a very good mood. Something about a major deal falling through, I believe."  
  
"I hope it's nothing too bad," his sister said, frowning worriedly. Her eyes lit up again when she gazed at Quatre, dispelling her serious mood temporarily. "Hey there kiddo!" she ruffled his blond hair playfully. "What' ya working on?"  
  
The five year old was, of course, only too happy to show off his work to his older sister, though he once again refused to tell her what exactly it was that he was making. "I want to give it to Father for his birthday," he told her seriously.  
  
"I'm sure he'll love it," she told him with a kind smile, and Cory agreed. He was about to go back to his work, when Shara smacked herself in the forehead. "Oh! I almost forgot! Cory has a gift for you!" The young man pulled out two Tiger Lillies, handing one to his sister, and one to Quatre, causing the boy's eyes to light up.  
  
It had become somewhat of a tradition now, that anytime time Cory visited the house; he would bring at least two flowers; one for Shara, and one for Quatre. It wasn't really bribery, because the two teens knew that Quatre would keep their secret. Instead, it was more of an affirmation of the trust shared between the three. The red rose had been the first, and over the past several weeks, the flowers had ranged from lilies, to carnations, to violets, and sometimes even ones that he couldn't name, but that looked just as beautiful.  
  
"Thank you Cory!" he grinned, giving the young man a quick hug. "I'll be back! I'm going to put it with my last one!" Racing out of the room, he stumbled on the rug, before grabbing onto the banister to help him up the stairs.  
  
~ ~  
  
"This feels weird," Quatre muttered to himself as he entered the florist's. Though he hesitated to admit it to himself, he - a former Gundam pilot - had always refused to even enter a flower shop. It wasn't allergies that kept him out, because he had none of those; and it wasn't work that had kept him out, because even in the midst of a war, he'd still been able to find the occasional hour or two to himself. The only reason he had never entered was . . . bad memories. The same kind that had made him feel upset when Trowa had given him the roses two days ago.  
  
'Why do I always insist on reciprocating kindness?' he thought rebelliously. 'I could have gotten him chocolates - I could have gotten him a new car if I'd wanted to! But no, I have to return the gesture by getting him flowers as well.' He made a face at the glass window, and gazed at the decidedly un-Quatre-like expression that was reflected back at him. 'Sometimes I hate being me,' he sighed mentally.  
  
"Can I help you?" Quatre looked up quickly, and gazed with surprise at the *male* standing behind the counter. That wasn't something you saw everyday in a flower shop. The boy behind the till wasn't much older than him, and gazed questioningly at the blond with sincere brown eyes.  
  
"I'm . . . umm . . . looking for something to give as a thank-you gift, I suppose," he admitted. "My friend got me something the other day, and I want to return the gesture."  
  
The young man in behind the counter gazed at him with a measuring look. "Were you looking for anything in particular? I have some suggestions if not."  
  
"I'm not exactly sure," he admitted. "What do you suggest?"  
  
The man ran a hand through slightly shaggy brown hair and came out from behind the counter, gesturing at Quatre to follow him over to where some of the various types of flowers were being stored. "You were given roses?"  
  
"How did you-"  
  
He smiled. "I can guess. When you work in a flower shop as long as I have, you get pretty good at it. Besides - you're blushing."  
  
The blond raised a hand to his cheek, which he noticed was faintly warm, and felt his eyes go wide. "You are good."  
  
"Not really. But back to business." The brown haired young man pulled out a couple of pink flowers, along with some star shaped white ones. "Carnation's are probably a good idea - and Jonquil too." He took the bouquet to the counter, adding a couple sprigs of baby's breath to it. "What do you think?"  
  
"It's perfect," Quatre smiled. As the young man rang up his bill, he stroked one of the pink carnations gently. "I've never given someone flowers before," he told the man quietly. He felt rather embarrassed to admit it - especially to someone who worked at a flower shop, but voicing his nervousness made him feel better.  
  
"Never?" The man placed a hand over his heart in mock surprise. "I'm shocked! I guess this means you'll have to do it more often?" He gave Quatre an obviously hopeful look, causing the blond to chuckle slightly.  
  
"Maybe," he told him, replacing his wallet in his coat and preparing to leave. "I want to see the reaction to these first."  
  
~ ~  
  
His gift had turned out perfectly, the child thought, as he gazed happily at his completed gift. Well - maybe not perfect - But they were what he had been trying to make . . . mostly . . . His jumbled thoughts trailed off a bit as he stared at the gift he'd been trying so hard to make. Bits of glue stuck at some of the wrong places, and at one or two places the red paper was just barely holding onto the cardboard base. Overall, they didn't look very much like flowers - but he had tried! Wasn't Nanny Gwen always saying that it was the thought that counted, and not the gift?  
  
"Father will like them," he told his gift defiantly, as though daring them to contradict him. "He'll put them on his desk, and we'll have cake, and he'll say he loves me, and we'll have a party with Shara and Nanny Gwen . . ." It was too bad that Cory couldn't be there, but he had to keep the secret, and he didn't want to get his father angry on his birthday.  
  
Picking up the slightly limp bouquet of makeshift flowers, he made sure to support the 'blooms' so that they wouldn't fall off of the pipe-cleaner stems. That was something he'd have to mention to his Father when he gave them to him, he mused thoughtfully as he walked down the hall to his father's office.  
  
Nassir Winner was, as always, working in his office, but Quatre new that it wouldn't be all day this time. After much coaxing on Gwen and Shara's parts, and many puppy dog eyes on his own, they'd managed to convince the man to not schedule any meetings, and come down in the evening for his birthday.  
  
"And make sure you do it before Quatre has to go to bed!" he remembered hearing his sister scold his Father.  
  
Of course, it was still mid-afternoon, so the party hadn't started yet, but Quatre was too excited to wait. His Father couldn't be that busy could he? Surely, he would understand that Quatre couldn't wait any longer to give him his gift. And maybe - maybe he'd be so happy, that he'd let Quatre help him, and spend the afternoon with him in the office!  
  
The blond haired child grinned broadly as he imagined getting to help his Father in the office again. It wasn't a common experience for him, as his Father was always so busy with the company, but sometimes he'd let Quatre help him, and the boy would draw pictures to decorate the office.  
  
"How could you be so stuffy Father?!" Shara's voice, coming out of his Father's office at a rather disconcerting volume stopped him, and his fantasies short. Maybe this wasn't the best time to visit his Father, if he was having another argument with his sister. His small fists clenched at his sides, as he debated running back to his room, and pretending he hadn't heard anything. This sounded like exactly the sort of argument that always led to another of his sister's moving out of the house, and he didn't really want to hear it - but then again, wouldn't it be better to know?  
  
"I'm only looking out for your best interests Shara - since you seem to be too foolish to do so on your own!" His Father's voice was not quite so loud, but held as much, or more anger than Shara's had.  
  
"Interests? Interests? Who I love is not just an interest Father! It's not some little deal that you can negotiate, and reject if it doesn't fit your criteria! Especially not when it's my life!"  
  
Quatre winced. Father had finally found out about Cory. He wondered how that had happened, but didn't dwell on it. Things were probably going to get ugly, and he just hoped that Shara didn't blame their Father's discovery on him.  
  
"You are my daughter, and as long as you live under this roof, you will do what I say! I do not want you seeing that boy anymore Shara - he's nothing but trouble!"  
  
"Your daughter?" His sister's voice dropped suddenly in volume and pitch, and Quatre had to strain to hear her voice. He pushed his ear up against the wood. What would happen now? Would Shara move out too - and on his Father's birthday no less?  
  
"Maybe you should get a new daughter then. It's not too hard right? Just mix up a few cells, and -voila!- instant child!" Her voice was scathing, and the blond haired boy struggled to understand what it was she was saying. 'Mix up cells?' "I researched it Father - and I'm not blind. You want a daughter that will listen to you? Just go to the lab and make new one! Poor Quatre may listen to you, because he's the only one that doesn't know that's the way you do things, but I frankly, am sick of it! No matter how much you may care about us, we have to live our own lives! We're not little dolls!"  
  
Footsteps stomped towards the door, and Quatre stepped to the side and out of the doorway quickly, his heart racing. Shara was so mad when she stormed out of the office, that she didn't even notice him standing wide- eyed outside of it. She slammed the door to her room, and moments later he heard several loud thumps that he guessed was his sister packing.  
  
She wasn't telling the truth, was she?  
  
A glance into the office showed his Father sitting at the desk, white faced, and he knew - however much didn't want to admit it - that it was true. 'I'm - not a real boy?' His legs slid out from under him, and he sank to the floor, eyes wide in a horrible mix of belief, and disbelief.  
  
'But - but - But Father loves me! I'm his son! He does love me! He has to . . .' Tears filled his eyes. Maybe that was why his father spent so much time in his office - he didn't want to see him! Maybe - maybe seeing Quatre only made him mad that he didn't have any real children . . .  
  
The flowers were still in his hands, he realized. At some point he had forgotten to hold them properly, and one of the flower heads had fallen off. Tears burned in his eyes, and he angrily brushed them away. 'I was stupid to think that Father would want these,' he decided, ripping off the remaining heads and throwing them down to the other end of the hall away from the open office door.  
  
Angry now, he pulled himself up gathered the rejected pieces of paper and cardboard, trying to pull them apart even further. 'Stupid paper flowers!' He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he stood in the middle of the hallway, tears streaming down flushed cheeks. 'Stupid . . . Fake . . .' Taking the shredded remains of his gift, he dropped them into the trashcan in his room, and locked the door.  
  
~ ~  
  
"Trowa?" The blond opened the door and shut it quietly as he looked around the house. Everything was so quiet. Perhaps he shouldn't have come home early after all? The brunette was used to him working late hours at the office, as he tried to get everything done that needed his attention. With Trowa's flexible hours, he often ended much earlier then the blond. Maybe he often went out at this time of day, and Quatre didn't notice it?  
  
"Are you home?" He called once more, hoping for a response. This had been a bad idea. The flowers could have waited a little longer - they wouldn't have wilted in his office. 'I should have stuck to my regular schedule,' he berated himself. 'Then I wouldn't have to feel like such an idiot.'  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
The blond jumped and turned to face Trowa, who had just walked in the back door.  
  
"What are you doing home so early?"  
  
Quatre bit his lip, and blushed, fighting to keep his voice from stammering as he replied. "I - I just wanted to return the favour!" He held out the pink and white bouquet of flowers. "These are for you!"  
  
Trowa's smile was all he needed.  
  
~ ~  
  
Owari  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ghost Whisper: An idea that's been percolating in my mind for months now. I guess the possibilities built up too much, and caused me to right it almost all at once. I worked on this for about 9 hours straight! Feedback would be muchly appreciated, as I worked so hard on this. It's for you guys!  
  
Things you should know:  
  
*Flowers: Yes, I did look up flower meanings for the story, and considered them carefully when I decided what to use. The list of meanings follows, in order of 'appearance'  
  
White Roses: These mean eternal love. Also, innocence, heavenly, secrecy, and silence. Red Roses: These mean love - or 'I love you'. Tiger Lilies: These can mean Wealth, and Pride (guess why I used them.) Pink Carnations: Meaning 'I'll never forget you'. Jonquil: These can mean 'Love me', affection returned, desire (and others) Baby's Breath: Everlasting love.  
  
*This story is set sometime after Endless Waltz, but I'm unsure as to whether or not Quatre found out about his mother. I based this story on the idea that Quatre hears that he is a 'test-tube baby' at five, and doesn't find out that he isn't one.  
  
*If you caught the cameo appearance, then good for you! I've been reading too much Weiss Kreuz lately, and couldn't help myself. ^_^  
  
*See the little purple button? It's calling to you. Resistance is futile. 


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